“Unemployed again, huh?” my mom sighed at Christmas dinner. My dad nodded. “It’s not like she ever manages to keep a job for long.”
I kept decorating the tree, hanging a crooked glass ornament on a lower branch, pretending I didn’t hear them as a CNN Christmas special played in the background.
Then the music on the TV stuttered and cut. A red banner slid across the bottom of the screen. “Breaking news: the mystery tech founder turns out to be a local woman…”
The Christmas lights glowed warm and soft in my parents’ New England living room, but the words in the air were cold.
“She’s still job hunting,” my mother told the relatives. Her voice was loud on purpose. She wanted everyone at the table to hear.
Laughter followed. Polite, clipped, suburban laughter, but it landed on my chest like weight. My brother, Daniel, smirked over his wine glass.
My father just sighed and looked down at his plate like it had disappointed him too. I sat there and held a tight smile. My fingers dug into the small velvet box in my lap.
It was the gift I’d bought them with my own money, from profits of a company they didn’t even know existed. They thought I was broken. They thought I was a failure.
“We just want you to be realistic, Clara,” my mother added, reaching for the remote. She turned the volume up a notch so she wouldn’t have to hear my answer. That was when the music on the screen changed.
The red banner flashed across the bottom of CNN. Breaking news. “The founder of MedSync Analytics has been identified,” the anchor said.
The room went quiet. The clink of forks stopped midair. The anchor’s voice filled the silence.
“After months of speculation, the tech world finally has a name.”
My mother stood up. The tray of Christmas cookies slipped from her hands. It hit the hardwood floor with a loud crash.
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